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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27495754">drowning in flowers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xtosleep_perchanceX/pseuds/Xtosleep_perchanceX'>Xtosleep_perchanceX</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamlet - Shakespeare, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emo, F/M, Inspired by Hamlet, Inspired by Shakespeare, My First Fanfic, POV Ophelia, References to Hamlet, References to Shakespeare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:02:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,116</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27495754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xtosleep_perchanceX/pseuds/Xtosleep_perchanceX</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamlet just shrugs again. "You'll come to find that I'm a lot of things. Beautiful things, terrible things. I'm sure you're the same way- we all have our dark and light sides." What?"  I stare at him, confused. He must notice the look on my face as he adds, "It's just who I am."</p><p>"You're so confusing." </p><p>"That's part of the fun."<br/>_<br/>After moving to a new town, Ophelia must discover where she belongs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hamlet &amp; Ophelia (Hamlet)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the bus lurched forward into the parking lot, I clutched the seat in front of me to stop myself from flying forward. Unfortunately, my plan didn’t work so well, as my hands slipped across the plasticky material, slick with sweat. Once the bus came to a halt, I peered through the dirty window to stare at the building looming on the other side. William Shakespeare Memorial High School. Just reading the lettering made my stomach churn with nerves. I had never once been the new kid, never dreamed of it, until it became my new reality.</p><p>From the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears and the anxiety swirling in my veins, I nearly missed the sound of the bus door opening. It wasn’t until kids started filing out that I realized what was going on.</p><p>"Laertes," I whispered, gently shaking my brother awake. "Laertes wake up, we're here."</p><p>"Huh?" He groaned, sitting up from his slumped position on the seat. "Oh." He stood up, swinging his backpack over his shoulder while wiping stray drool off his chin. I grabbed my fluffy pink backpack and slipped it on, exiting the bus behind my brother.</p><p>My knees shook as my feet hit the pavement. Getting on the bus was fearsome enough but tackling my presence amongst my entire school was going to be ten times worse. There were kids everywhere. Milling about on the front lawn, blocking the path to the staircase, I could feel myself shrinking. I swear all eyes flew to me, and all I wanted to do was shrink away. I hated drawing attention to myself. I didn’t want to be the sideshow, the shiny new thing that everyone wanted to play with.</p><p>“Who’s she?” A girl whispered</p><p>I drew the hood on my sweatshirt, ducked my head, and scurried past the courtyard’s bronze statue of Shakespeare.</p><p>Today was my and my brother’s first day at William Shakespeare Memorial High School, or Shakespeare High as all the enrollment counselors had called it. My brother didn’t seem to care much about what was happening, but that’s because he never gives a shit about anything, ever.</p><p>"Laertes and Ophelia Dane." My brother told the office secretary. "We're transfers."</p><p>"What grade are you both in?" The woman asked, tapping away at the keyboard.</p><p>"Twelfth." Laertes said. "And she's in-"</p><p>"Tenth." I interjected. "I'm in tenth." The woman paused a moment, giving me a strange look before she continued frantically typing. I wiggled my nose to adjust my piercing.</p><p>"All right, Laertes," the secretary began, pulling a sheet of paper from the printer and handing it to my brother. "Your homeroom is in room 186, here is a map. Your teacher will assign someone to show you around. And Ophelia," She said again, handing me two papers. "Same goes for you. Your homeroom is 127. Good luck."</p><p>Awkwardly, I walked out of the office, waving goodbye to Laertes, and into the main lobby of Shakespeare High. I slid my feet along the faux marble floors, scanning the map and trying to figure out where room 127 was.</p><p>Art wing, music wing, science wing. 127 was in the math wing. So where was the math wing? I shuffled through the lobby peeking down corridors until I found room 120. I turned down the hallway and ended up walking past 127 twice until I saw it. There was nobody in the room except the teacher, a middle-aged looking woman focusing on the screen of her bulky, black laptop.</p><p>"Um, hello?" I spoke from the doorway. My voice cracked and I cringed, so I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hello?"</p><p>This time the woman peered up from the screen. "Oh, yes hello, you must be the new student. Olivia, Olivia..." she began frantically flipping through the papers on her desk.</p><p>"Ophelia Dane." I corrected.</p><p>"Ophelia! Oh, I'm sorry. One second...where is my seating chart..." She picked up a stack of papers and began thumbing through it. "Aha! Ophelia, you sit over there in the back of the third row." What do you have first period?"</p><p>"Uh, English in room 135." I said, looking at my schedule.</p><p>"Oh that's just down the hall, you should be able to find it, right?" The teacher asked.</p><p>I looked at my map and saw the room was indeed just down the hall. I nodded.</p><p>"Alright, great! I'm Mrs. Smith, by the way. Welcome to Shakespeare High, Ophelia!"</p><p>-</p><p>The bell rang signaling the end of homeroom as I stood from my seat and filed out of the room with the rest of my class.</p><p>"What is she wearing?"</p><p>"Is she part of some kind of cult?"</p><p>I sighed and gripped my map and schedule in my hands as I turned down the hallway to room 135. American Literature with Mr. Hughes.</p><p>"You're the new student?" Mr. Hughes called from across the room as I walked in. It was only first period and I was already getting tired of this question.</p><p>"Yes." I said.</p><p>"Wonderful! Ophelia, right?" He asked. I nodded, wiggling my nose to adjust my piercing. "You can take a seat right next to Juliet, she's quite lovely. Juliet, could you raise your hand?"</p><p>A girl with glasses in the back of the class raised her hand and smiled. "Hello!" She chirped. "Your name's Ophelia, right?" She asked as I took the seat next to hers.</p><p>"Yeah," I nodded.</p><p>"That's a pretty name." Juliet said. "Oh, I like your septum ring!"</p><p>"Thanks." Laughed, wiggling my nose again.</p><p>"That must've really hurt piercing that, huh?"</p><p>"Yeah, it did." I said. "Some people even gauge theirs, I don't know how they do it."</p><p>Juliet and I proceed to talk the rest of the class. She complimented my outfit and my hair, which I was happy about after being gawked at since I set foot on school grounds. She talked to me about the school and how cliquey everyone is, which put me in edge a little bit.</p><p>"Everyone's stuck together since middle school," She explained. "It's super hard to get in anywhere, and if you get rejected from a clique, you're on your own for a while." Juliet's tone then became a bit somber. "That's kind of what happened to me. It was really stupid, too." She sighed. "You see, I'm dating a senior, Romeo Montague. He's a jock, and I'm a theater kid, and these two cliques do <em>not</em> get along at all. So they kicked me out."</p><p>"That's really stupid." I said. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Oh, it's fine. I have you now!"  Juliet smiled.</p><p>I grinned.</p><p>"I'm so happy we have lunch together!" Juliet exclaimed, setting her lunch tray down on the table. Juliet had her own table in the back of the cafeteria. She explained that when the theater kids kicked her out of the group, they had also removed her from the fifth period lunch table, so she had to take this empty one in the back.</p><p>"Me too," I said. "I thought I was going to have to eat alone today!"</p><p>"You probably would've found me back here anyway." Juliet laughed, opening her carton of milk.</p><p>I peered around the lunchroom and watched as the other students chatted and swapped items from their lunches. Just like the lobby this morning, everyone was split off into various cliques. I honestly haven't seen anything like it.</p><p>"Those guys over there are some of the jocks," Juliet spoke, pointing to the table of guys I was currently observing as they built a dick from Rice Krispy treats. They all wore the school's purple and white varsity jackets. "The ones in this lunch are Fortinbras Young, Mercutio Como, Benvolio Pucci, Guildenstern Jacobsen, and Rosencrantz Peterson. They're all on the football team."</p><p>"Isn't your boyfriend on the football team, too?" I asked.</p><p>"Yeah, my Romeo's a linebacker." She said dreamily. "Are you and your brother thinking of joining any sports?"</p><p>"I'm considering joining the swim team," I shrugged, picking at my sandwich. "But I dunno, I don't think I'm that good. My brother was on the football team back at our old school, so he's gonna join the one here."</p><p>"He'll probably make it," Juliet said, pausing to take a bite of her critically overcooked pizza. "But that doesn't mean the other guys will like him being there. There was a new guy last year, a senior I'm pretty sure, who was new and joined the football team. Romeo said nobody really payed attention to him and he was always benched. He said it was if this kid hadn't even joined the team at all."</p><p>"I hope that doesn't happen to Laertes." I said. "He's a really good player; he won a lot of awards."</p><p>"Maybe he has a chance." Juliet said.</p><p>After that, Juliet pointed out the rest of the cliques in the cafeteria, naming the ones who were in our period. The cheerleaders, the geeks, the emos, the hipsters, and her old theater friends.</p><p>"And then there's Hamlet Elsinore." She explained. "He's sort of a lore. He's technically part of the emo clique, but he doesn't really associate with them very much. He has one good friend, Horatio Roman, and that's about it. He's the dark, brooding type and he thinks he's this superior intellect. He just sorta does his own thing."</p><p>"Seems pretentious." I said, biting a chunk out of my apple and wiggling my nose. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At the sound of the end bell, I stood from my chair in my ninth period honors Algebra II class and began searching for my locker. Juliet had helped me find it before lunch, but after sixth period we didn't share the same classes or have any near each other, so I had lost that resource.</p>
<p>After a mildly painstaking search, I found it and dialed in my combination. I loaded the books I needed for that nights homework into my fuzzy backpack and headed towards the bus loop. Thankfully I wouldn't have to deal with riding the bus for too long. Laertes was getting a car soon, which meant I would get free rides to school.</p>
<p>"Hey, Laertes," I said, plopping down next to my brother. "How was your day?"</p>
<p>"Pretty good," He sighed as he fished his phone from his pants pocket. "Make any potential friends?"</p>
<p>"Yeah I met this girl, Juliet, in my English class. We have a few other classes together and she showed me around and stuff. She seems pretty cool." I responded.</p>
<p>"Juliet Capulet?" Laertes asked, glancing up from his phone.</p>
<p>"Yeah," I said, gripping the seat as the bus grumbled to life and began pulling away from the school. "Did you meet her too or something? She's a sophomore."</p>
<p>"No, but I met her boyfriend, Romeo." He explained. "He's in my grade. He came up to me and asked if I played any sports and he said I sounded like the addition to the football team they've been needing."</p>
<p>"Oh, wow," I said, surprised. "Juliet said it's really hard to get into any cliques here."</p>
<p>"Yeah, is it me or is this school abnormally and weirdly cliquish?" Laertes questioned.</p>
<p>"It is. It <em>really </em>is." I nodded in agreement.</p>
<p>Laertes and I became quiet after that and I stared out of the dirty bus window once again, watching trees and prim houses dash by in a blur.</p>
<p><em>Everyone in this school has their place.</em> <em>I wonder where I'll</em> <em>fit in. </em>Ithought to myself. <em>I have Juliet so far, but I don't think anyone else will let me in...</em></p>
<p>As the bus rolled on, I glanced down at my skeleton tights and wiggled my nose.</p>
<p>Over the next several weeks, Juliet and I started to become closer as friends and I started coming out of my shell a little more. Because Juliet started hanging around me, and because of my "satanic pastel" look, we both slowly became associated with the emo kids, although neither of us had spoken to anyone in the clique before and hadn't been "officially accepted" into the group.</p>
<p>"If you're dating Romeo why haven't you joined with the jocks?" I asked her casually in the library one day. That's one thing Juliet and I found we had in common: a love of reading. In our spare periods we often strolled through the shelves in the library looking for a good read.</p>
<p>"Because I don't play sports." Juliet explained. "And that's one of the cliques that's super-hard to penetrate; you have to be in it from the beginning. That's one of the reasons why Romeo and I's relationship is pretty much controversial. Normally a jock would go for a cheerleader or a girl on another female sports team. But Romeo chose me: a theater kid. The rivalry between the jocks and theater kids has been going on for <em>years. </em>And when the two cliques found out about us, they said either I go from theater, or he goes from sports. But Romeo is a star football player and he couldn't leave. So I left theater." She sighed. "Everyone is still uncomfortable with our relationship, even our parents-mostly because of our two year age gap- but I don't care. I love him, and he loves me, and that's all that matters." She smiled.</p>
<p>"Wow, that's pretty intense." I said, scanning the shelves. "If you become an emo from hanging around me, would your relationship be more accepted?"</p>
<p>"Maybe. Who knows?" She shrugged. "How do you feel about that? Being associated with the emos?"</p>
<p>"Eh, I don't really care." I said as I picked up a book and reading its description. Sigh. Stereotypical plot line. I put it back. "As long as I have good friends, nothing really matters." I smiled at Juliet.</p>
<p>"Daw, love you, too." She smiled. "What about a <em>boyfriend?" </em>Juliet asked coyly. "Any chance of that?"</p>
<p>I wiggled my nose. "Well, I don't-"</p>
<p><em>"</em>You pretentious asshole!" Someone yelled from behind the row of books. "The curtains are just fucking blue! There's nothing significant about them!"</p>
<p>Juliet and I glanced at each other, holding back our laughter.</p>
<p>"And that is where you are wrong." Said a deeper voice in a condescending manner. "The blue curtains obviously signify the grief and depression David experiences in this scene. The author wouldn't have mentioned them otherwise."</p>
<p>"Or maybe the they just put them there." The other voice muttered. "You're so fucking annoying sometimes..."</p>
<p>"You know you love me," The other quipped. "No need to hate."</p>
<p>We heard an exasperated sigh and a book snap shut, followed by footsteps. I peered from behind the bookcase to see who was on the other side, but I only managed to catch the back of a tall figure dressed in black walk through the library's side door.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>"Hello dear!" Chirped Mrs. Anderson, my art teacher. "You can go ahead and get your paints all set up, I have to scootch out of here quick to make some copies. Don't be surprised if anyone else comes in!" She called over her shoulder, leaving me alone in her room.</p>
<p>It was early Friday morning, and I had come by my art class before school started to get some extra time in on a project my class had started when I transferred in. Mrs. Anderson told me I didn't have to do it, but I opted to try anyway.</p>
<p>I uncapped the bottles of red, yellow, and blue tempera paints, squeezing a small amount of each onto a palette along with a bit of white and black. After setting up my brushes, water, and test sheet at my table, I pulled back my long blonde and purple locks so they wouldn't irritate me as I worked. I was just about to bring my brush to my paper when suddenly- "Mrs. Anderson?" Someone called.</p>
<p>I squealed, flinching enough to send my pale-blue coated brush flying from my hand to the tile floor.</p>
<p>"Oh, geez, sorry! Didn't mean to scare you." I looked up to see a rather short boy-5'4" at the most- with thick-framed black glasses and brown hair peeking out from under a beanie at the doorway. Tucked under his arm was a canvas of some sort covered in a trash bag and duct tape. "Do you know where she went? I'm dropping off my project."</p>
<p>"Uh, she said she went off to make some copies, she should be back." I said, wiggling my nose as I bent over in my seat to retrieve my brush.</p>
<p>"Alright, cool." The guy said, walking into the room and taking a seat across from me. He sat there for a few minutes watching me paint before speaking again. "That's really good. Are you in basic painting?"</p>
<p>"Oh, uh, thanks. Yeah I am." I said.</p>
<p>"That's what I thought," The guy said. "I remember doing that self portrait project last year." He squinted at my portrait for a second before asking, "So what are you doing in that?"</p>
<p>"I'm laying in water or something," I laughed. "I don't even know what I'm doing."</p>
<p>"Are you that Ophelia girl?" The guy suddenly asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah," I giggled. "I'm Satan Girl, in the flesh."</p>
<p>"I figured you were, I just didn't want to be weird about it. I'm Horatio; a friend mentioned you."</p>
<p>"Oh, did they mention how I must enjoy sacrificing goats in the woods because I wear skirts with crosses and fuzzy, pastel sweaters?" I jeered, mixing paints to make a color similar to the blonde in my hair.</p>
<p>"No, but he said he likes your purple hair and those tights with the bones on them." Horatio revealed, smirking.</p>
<p>I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I began to blush. I didn't know why I was blushing- I had just met Horatio and I didn't even know who his friend was. "Oh." Perhaps I was blushing because someone liked what I wore. Who I was. I wiggled my nose.</p>
<p>Just then, the bell rang, signaling the students to report to their homeroom. I began collecting my pallet and brushes as Mrs. Anderson rushed back in apologizing, saying how the copier was jammed. "Oh good, you finished your project?" She asked Horatio, who in turn handed her the duct-taped and garbage-bagged canvas. I listened in on Mrs. Anderson gushing over Horatio's wonderful work as I washed the tempera out of my brushes and placed my painting on the drying rack. The warning bell began to ring, so I quickly finished up and bolted out of the room. <em>Thump! </em>Right into somebody. <br/>"Sorry!" I squeaked, quickly glancing up to see who I smacked into.</p>
<p>All I saw before I awkwardly sped away was black and a shock of blond hair.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yeah so, this is my first time ever posting anything! idk how to feel about it, if i should change anything for the next chapter lemme know!! uwu</p></blockquote></div></div>
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